Always the schemer, Josie grabbed Moira by both arms, glaring. “You know what else it’s a night for? Across the dance floor, in fifteen minutes… the Walk Like an Egyptian dance contest.”

“Aw, Josie, no way am -”

“C’mon, Moira. This is our night. This could be our last hurrah. Think about it. Ten years from now our knees could be shot or we’ve had hip replacements.”

Moira couldn’t hold in her cackles. “Ok, ok, fine. We’ll dance but -”

“Who’s dancing? I hope you know you’re not dancing without me.”

The two women turned and rushed toward the new voice, already screaming.

“Melanie! YAAY! You’re here.

“So good to see you, Mel.”

With an arm around each of her lifelong friends, Melanie Yankama hugged them close.

The Asian-American wife, mother of five, and middle-school science teacher pulled back, her eyes brimming with tears. “Why do we wait so long to get together? I love my life and everything about it, but, damn, I miss my girls.” She turned to Moira. “It still bugs me I couldn’t be with you after Alexander… well, it was just frustrating. Louis’ dad’s Alzheimer’s advanced so fast and then we lost his mom. She was healthy as an Olympic swimmer and one morning, she just didn’t wake up.”

Josie didn’t respond, recognizing her friend’s need to talk.

Moira touched Melanie’s arm. “Don’t, Mel. No one knows better than me… life doesn’t wait for the right time, it will take its due. Your daily calls meant the world to me and helped me get through some bad days.”

Moira blinked, fighting to hold back her own tears.

“So, are we dancing or dissolving into a messy heap of old ladies?”

“Oh, hush!” Melanie chided Josie. “Of course, we’re dancing, but I’m the only old lady in this conversation. You two look amazing. Do you have portraits in your attics? I feel like one of the Golden Girls standing next to you two.”

“Woman, you are stunning and you know it. Your gray hair looks like professional highlights. Mine look like I lost a battle with life.”

The trio shared a laugh at Josie’s expense.

“Now let’s go dance and watch out for the Conway Twins. Word is they’re on the prowl.”

Moira giggled. “Oh, no! Rick and Dick are here?”

“Yup! And they’re still identical. Even their comb-overs match!”

Howling with laughter, the friends made their across the ballroom, greeting classmates, posing for quick photos, and avoiding Rick and Dick Conway.

Moira Lambert was still well aware of the heaviness on her heart but the despair was gone.

As she danced, shared toasts and reconnected with friends, she was reminded of the fun of high school.

For thirty years, her one focal point was the day her brother died and her parents’ lack of concern. Moira spent so much time hating and avoiding them, she blocked out all the happy times in her young life, even the ones shared with Kevin.

The evening passed faster than anyone wanted, and the pre-dawn hours found the hotel’s efficient wait staff replacing centerpieces and empty snack trays with large bowls of fresh fruit and pots of strong hot coffee.

The early breakfast was such a hit at the last reunion, die-hard class members voted for another and now sat around the ballroom minus shoes, jackets, and a few wigs, in small group conversations making plans for family visits and cookouts.

Moira, Josie, and Melanie each claimed a lounger behind the bandstand. Melanie was on her cell giving husband, Louis, a quick rundown of their evening, while Josie was exchanging texts with someone.

Reclined with her eyes closed, Moira wasn’t asleep or even tired.

Montages of her past played in her mind, along with her late husband’s words.

“Baby, we get one life. Don’t spend it focused on your pain or the people who caused it. We have our kids and careers. We have each other. Days like these are the sweetest. Don’t focus on the pain, honey-bunny. God knows we’d never smile if we only remembered the bad times.”

He was right. Alexander Lambert was always right and as long as he was the center of her universe, she knew the truth.

When Moira returned for her sophomore year, she rented a bungalow from a former professor who recently married and moved all her things out of her parents’ home. Again Abraham and Genova were emotion-free and their daughter was glad to be rid of them.

Until the phone calls began.

When Moira moved out, karma moved in. Excessive drinking, extra-marital affairs, and empty bank accounts were just a few of the things one of her parents would call to complain about.

Moira never took sides or gave advice, and after one too many emotional outbursts from her mother calling her an uncaring daughter, she stopped taking their calls.

But Alexander refused to let her turn her back—he knew regret would catch up to her one day.

He held her hand when they invited her then-divorced parents to dinner to announce their engagement.

Alexander’s wink from the altar made Moira grin as she held her father’s arm all the way up the aisle.

When her parents became ill two years apart, Alexander was at her side, helping to move them each in turn to Indianapolis and manage their affairs in life and after their deaths.

Moira never again had a daughter’s love for Abraham and Genova. She could never mine deep enough in her soul to find forgiveness and her parents made it easy by refusing to talk about Kevin. However, her husband made her understand turning her back on them would only make the memories worse for her.

How could one person be right all the time?

Well, not all the time. There was the one time Alexander was wrong.

Home just three days after corrective knee surgery, her husband waved off chest pains as indigestion. When antacids didn’t help, Moira wanted to take him to the ER but Alexander refused, saying he’d had enough of hospitals and would prefer to try resting for a couple of hours first.

Less than an hour later, he woke in distress. His breathing was rapid and shallow and he coughed up blood. Moira’s 911 call brought paramedics to her home in six minutes, but it was too late for Alexander. He’d suffered a pulmonary embolism and never made it to the hospital.

Moira sat up, in awe that the memory which caused so many of her tears for over a year wasn’t breaking her down now. Losing the love of her life still hurt, witnessed by the dull ache in her chest, but at last, she knew she’d go on not in spite of her loss but because of it.

“What are you smiling about, MJ?”

Glancing over at Josie, Moira’s smile grew. “Nothing, just memories.”

Melanie ended her call and sat up. “Louis said if you two leave town without coming by to say hello and give him a hug, he’s going to put an ancient Asian curse on you both which will cause your hips to spread.”

“Too late!” Moira chirped.

“Yeah, your hubs is a little late to the party on that front. How did he come up with that idea? A supernatural message from his ancestors?

“Nah. An old episode of Tales from the Crypt.”

They all dissolved into giggles, then Josie looked at Moira with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“You know, we could grab my things from my room, stop by your hotel and get your bags, then spend a few hours at Mel’s, making Louis sorry he ever met us.”

Moira chuckled as Josie dragged Melanie toward the breakfast buffet wondering about her chances of getting a six-egg omelet.

Before joining them, Moira paused, resting her hand over her heart.

Alexander Lambert loved her and saved her from every bad thing in her life. Though he was gone forever, his words were still with her, urging her on. Moira closed her eyes, grateful for the time they had together and the life they’d shared. She said a silent thank you to the memory of the man who worked to see the good in everything and everyone… and brought out the best in her.

Smiling, she went to join her friends, looking forward to the sweetest days still to come.

Just as writers have their own style and/or voice, while writing there is generally a routine that falls into play.

Struggling with the opening line and first page. This is pretty much standard. It’s not uncommon for the first page/chapter to go through the greatest number of rewrites.

Building the connection—or lack of—between the protagonist/antagonist or Hero/heroine. It may not be at the very beginning, but still a must.

Introducing supporting characters. This is where it gets dicey for me. I have family members and friends, coworkers and pass-through characters, each serving a purpose in a scene or chapter.

But characters I do not know begin to appear. I’ve gotten used to it. I used to wonder how I could do so much planning and layout scenes and not know this person.

Now I just go with it. They get to stay at least until the first draft is done, then we’ll see.

I validated my project on July 20th and completed the story a week later. However, I’m still writing, making tweaks here and there, altering dialogue and sequence, and making notes for the first rewrite… sometime in the future.

So imagine my surprise when TWO senior citizens show up adding to the story, and the woman is downright rude and obnoxious.

Back it up, grandma! I’ve fallen and can’t get up is a real thing.

But, even though she’s annoying, and I wanted to send her to a home for mean, old biddies, grandma threw a plot twist spanning sixty years on the table and I couldn’t breathe.

Simply brilliant!

So, now I have to go back and do a bit of foreshadowing… and let grandma stay.

Gramps? I have no clue. He’s just sitting over on the sidelines, nodding and smiling.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “street” but we’re gonna call it a highway this time!

~~~~~

Originally a 1991 number one song for Canadian Tom Cochrane, Life is a Highway became a top ten hit fifteen years later for American country group Rascal Flatts when they covered the song for Pixar’s animated hit Cars. The song also appears on their 2006 album, Me and My Gang.

This song is a biggie with my family because of Jordan, my three-year-old grand-nephew.

Before he could walk or talk, J was mesmerized by Cars. It got so bad, the only way to calm a fussy, cranky J was to put the DVD on. (Which of course, I bought for him. 😀 ) And he wouldn’t just watch the movie, he had to hear the song.

J also never watched the movie alone. If you were present, you were a part of the viewing audience. So it’s little wonder, the Arizona part of the family knows all the words to the song… and most of the dialogue in the movie. 🙂

Here he is on his riding Lightening McQueen, and yes, he’s wearing Lightening McQueen sandals too. I have no idea where my sis gets them but he gets a new pair every summer.

After being bought every vehicle in the movie, some twice, J became hooked on YouTube toy videos (I didn’t know there was such a thing) featuring the cars… from Cars. He dragged us all to the TV… several times, to see the race track based on the movie. J got a big surprise when he received his own Ultimate Florida Speedway for Christmas in 2017.

If this were last weekend my video would be of him singing the song since he was here, but he’s with his Gigi so I’m playing this one for Jordan!

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Life is a Highway

by Rascal Flatts

Written by Tom Cochrane

[Verse 1]
Whooo umm yeah
Life is like a road that you travel on
When there is one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
There is a world outside every darkened door
Where blues will not haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won’t hesitate
To break down the garden gate
There’s not much time left today

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

[Verse 2]
Through all these cities and all these towns
It is in my blood and it is all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
From Mozambique to those Memphis nights
The Khyber Pass to Vancouver’s lights

Knock me down get back up again
You are in my blood
I am not a lonely man
There is no load I cannot hold
Road so rough this I know
I will be there when the light comes in
Just tell them we are survivors

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

Give me give me give me give me yeah

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

There was a distance between you and I (between you and I)
A misunderstanding once
But now we look it in the eye

Ooh, yeah

There ain’t no load that I cannot hold
Road so rough this I know
I will be there when the light comes in
Just tell them we are survivors

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

You've reached the Creative Space of Antiguan and Barbudan writer Joanne C. Hillhouse. Welcome. For info on my writing, services, and more, scroll down. If you need to contact me directly, email jhohadli (at) gmail.com. Sharing with links and credits is fine but unauthorized use and/or duplication of site content without permission is strictly prohibited. For my other blog, go to wadadlipen.wordpress.com